There’s no such thing as a perfect defense. Not even fort-like houses, encrypted security, or armies of guards. The only way to eliminate hazards and protect those who matter is to gather as much intel as possible about the right people.
The people who wouldn’t dare to cross me. Because they’re afraid they have a spy in their ranks who’ll slice their throat before they can reach me.
This is how I’ve managed to effectively protect my family for decades. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve uncovered a plot way before its execution and swiftly put an end to it before it happened.
No one but my senior guards knows about these attempts. Certainly not my wife. As much as she’s integrated into my lifestyle, I don’t want to worry her over pests that I’ve already taken care of.
And because information is essential, I taught my children from a young age to acquire as much intel as possible, not only about their enemies but also their friends, entourage, and guards.
Basically, anyone who crosses their paths.
If they know the people they’re dealing with, they’ll be able to avoid any malicious intent and even destroy the conflict before it arises.
That talent comes naturally to my son. He’s fully aware of everything in his surroundings and goes the extra mile to implement that principle in his everyday life.
Annika might have been sheltered, but she can also get any information she sets out to obtain through her people skills. It’s how she’s managed to survive in our world all this time.
I trust my children’s survival skills, even when I’m not around. I still wish they depended on me for protection, but I knew there would be a day when they’d take their own paths in life.
Despite that trust, I can sense that something has gone awry during the time I was on my way here from the States.
I share a look with my senior guard, Kolya, and he nods, probably getting the same feeling as me.
“Sir.”
I stop at the entrance of the mansion in which my son stays. A younger man, probably a few years younger than Jeremy, greets us at the door. He has a muscular build, light blond hair, small blue eyes, and angular features.
He’s not one of the guards I sent with Jeremy when he first came to this bleak island that shares England’s irritating weather and the English’s bland manners.
There’s no need for questioning, because I know exactly who he is. Kolya and I have been keeping an eye on him ever since Jeremy informed me of his existence.
“Ilya Levitsky,” I say his name with an edge to my calm voice.
His body stiffens in an erect position, probably realizing that all the rumors he’s heard about me are true.
“Sir, yes, sir.”
Kolya circles him like a giant cat who’s about to devour a cub and asks him in a rough Russian accent, “Age.”
“Twenty-one, sir.”
“Parents’ occupations.”
“They’re both dead.”
“Place of birth.”
“Saint Petersburg.”
“How did you get onto this island?”
“Scholarship.”
“Why did you join the Serpents?”
“I didn’t want to go back to my previous life in Russia, and I thought if I joined the New York Bratva, then I’d secure my future.”
“Reasons for defecting and choosing Jeremy.”